


Head Over Heels (Five Times Sam Winchester Fell Down and His Brother Picked Him Up)

by Trojie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Series, Pre-Slash, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin - Sam falls down, and it's Dean that picks him up again. Always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my hurt_comfort bingo 2013 table, prompt "falling". Preseries. Dean/Sam preslash.

Dean leans back against the motel bed and watches his Dad pick up Sammy and stand him on his two little pudgy feet. 'C'mere,' Dean says, stretching out his arms and twitching his fingers and trying to make the distance as short as possible while staying exactly where Dad told him to. 'C'mon, Sammy, you can do it,' he wheedles. 'I'm right here, c'mon,'

Sam's face splits open in a grin and he lets go of Dad's fingers and takes one big clumping step and another but then it all goes kinda sideways and he goes over. His arms are still stretching towards Dean as he starts to cry. 

Dean scoots forward on his butt and grabs Sam up before Dad can even move. 'Hey, hey,' he says. 'Hey Sammy. You did good. You almost got it. Next time you'll get it.'


	2. Chapter 2

Dean watches Sam at school a lot. It's his first week of ever _going_ to school, he's only little, he needs his big brother to look out for him. Dad said so the day they enrolled Sam, says it every morning when he drops them off. Mostly, Sam's pretty good though. He makes friends easy. He smiles easy. Dean lets himself relax, drift a little further and further away every lunch time when it seems like Sammy's doing okay. They're only little kids, anyway, it's not like anything bad could happen.

Dean's got a sandwich halfway to his mouth when he hears a little yelp in among the background noise that somehow makes everything else go silent. Before he even knows how he got there he's got his arms around his little brother who's got two skinned knees and a murderous expression in his tear-filled eyes and there's a big kid, maybe Dean's age, laughing at Sam crying who's really, really gonna regret this day in about thirty seconds time. 

'You okay, Sammy?' Dean demands, tilting Sam's chin so he's forced to look Dean in the eye rather than stare down the laughing jackass. 'What happened?'

'I'm okay,' Sam says, which is a _lie_ because he's _bleeding_ and Dean is gonna take a freaking chunk out of someone for that. Sam swipes a chubby hand over his eyes. 

'What happened?' Dean asks again. Sam squirms. _'Sammy -'_

'He pushed me,' Sam shrugs, and points. 

Years later, when Sam's a goody-two-shoes of the first order, Dean always likes to remind him that they got expelled from their first school together.


	3. Chapter 3

'Sammy, _get down_ ,' Dad roars and Dean shoves another shell into the chamber of his sawed-off and scoots in front of his brother. But it's dark and there's only three of them and they don't know where the friggin' spirit _is_ and before Dean or Dad can do anything there's motion behind them and Sam makes this muffled noise and there's a thud. 

Dean sees red. The next ten minutes are kind of a blur, but when Dean wakes up again his magazine's empty, there's salt and cordite in the air, and his dad is giving him the proud look. Sam's lying on the ground though, and his leg's all twisted wrong, so Dean can't feel too good about himself. He was too late. 

'Hey Sammy,' he says softly, kneeling down on the wet ground. 'Y'okay?'

'M'fine,' Sam growls, but he can't stand up on his own even though he tries. 

Dean gets his arm around Sam's skinny teenage waist, and helps him hobble back to the Impala. They're both covered in dirt and soot and sweat. Their dad opens the passenger door and helps Dean slide Sam in. 'You'll be okay,' John says kinda roughly to Sam. 'Just a twisted ankle.' He doesn't know that, because he hasn't looked, but Dad always does that, helps them through stuff by toughing it out. Sam bites his lip. 'Yessir,' he says. 

Dean wants to get in the back with Sam and just, y'know, make double sure he's okay, but Sam's already yanked the door shut, and Dad needs someone to read the map. 

But Sam's face is too white. Dean doesn't like it. So he pulls the door back open and slides in with his brother. 

Dad opens his mouth like he's gonna say something but Dean looks up at him and pleads silently. Dad gives in. He knows when he's not gonna win. 

'Get off me,' Sam mutters, but he ends up half in Dean's arms anyway. Dean pulls Sam's leg up onto his lap.

'Shut up and take it like a man,' Dean mutters back. One of Sam's ligaments is hot and swollen already, running up the side of his leg. 

'God, you're such a jerk.'

'And you're a little bitch. So pipe down, alright?'

Dean feels Sam's secretive little smile against his throat in the dark.


	4. Chapter 4

Apparently she was the perfect girl, God, Dean, you don't _understand_ , why the hell do we always have to _leave_ places like this? I fucking hate hunting. I hate Dad -

He doesn't mean it. Dean's letting him have a good old sixteen-year-old sulk on the motel bed they're sharing while Dad hunts down the wendigo that was more important than Sam's attempt at going steady. Because he's a good brother like that. 

But he's only got so much patience. He wriggles his bare, cold toes up against Sam's feet. Sam kicks him and breaks off mid-rant. 'God, you're so freaking gross.'

'Are you done with the angsty soap opera dialogue?'

'Dean -'

'No, I'm serious. Because I'm bored.'

'But what if she was, y'know, my soulmate or something and we had to leave -'

Dean has to laugh. 'Soulmate? Seriously, Sammy? You read too many Mills n Boon novels.'

'Fuck off, jerk.'

Sam actually sounds sad. Like, really sad. Dean doesn't get it, but his brother should not sound like that over anyone, let alone some chick he literally knew for a week. Dean stops with the cold-toes routine and rolls onto his back, pulls Sam with him. Sam resists, a bit, but he ends up sprawled on Dean's chest anyway, and Dean gets his arms around him and pets at his hair, the way he always does, always has done, when Sammy's sad. 

'Sounds like you really fell for her, huh squirt?'

Sam glares at him, face half-buried in Dean's shoulder, but there isn't any heat in it. 'It's not funny.'

'I know,' Dean says, running his fingers through Sam's mop of hair. 'I know, Sammy, I know.'


	5. Chapter 5

Dean's just looking for a beer, figures he deserves a drink before he bites the bullet and fronts up to his brother, but before he gets to close his hand around a cold bottle there's someone coming up behind him. It's just instinct to scythe around, punch, kick, hook his ankle around, and drop his attacker to the floor before he realises who it is.

'Whoa, easy tiger,' Dean says, pinning Sam until _he_ can realise who it is too. 

'Dean?' Sam gasps, disbelieving. 'You scared the crap out of me!'

'That's cause you're out of practice,' Dean points out, getting up. 

He pulls Sam back up to his feet - or at least that's what he means to do, but Sam dumps him on his ass without so much as a second thought. 'Or not.' It makes his breath go a little quick, knowing Sam hasn't forgotten.

Sam grabs him by the hand, but they pull each other up. 

The important things never change.


End file.
